2005.08.21

[Le_Repas]

Bonsoir Mesdames (et
Monsieur LaHaine)! I am writing to
you today from the beautiful vineyards of Prince Edward County in Ontario, Canada, sipping on a glass of baco noir. The summer rain is covering the valley in a
blanket of mist, as the warmth of day meets the cool of evening. I
have just finished a lovely little amuse
gueule of pâté de foie gras avec truffles et croutons, and I am just being
served my venaison avec asperges a
l’hollandaise et pommes purées.

So I have had a week to reflect on the malicious hand of
censorship that befell me. I am no
longer angry. I am actually very
sad. I am sad that Monsieur LaHaine has lost
the purity of his soul and his sense of courage. I do not know what he is doing in the desert,
but I hope that he rediscovers these things, because they are that which drew
us to him in the first place.

Speaking of courage,
it seems that Monsieur Formidable needs a large dose of this from all of the
hatred he is encountering in the southern hemisphere. I believe, mes cheries, that it is this influx of hatred circulating in the
world that has caused Trent to become ill. Our states of health are
tied in with the atmosphere surrounding us. When we are full of joy, laughter, and love, our immunities are stronger
that the bulging muscles on the arms of Monsieur Formidable. But, even if our hearts are full of joy, if
the atmosphere surrounding us is full of stress, negativity, disdain and
hatred, it plagues our soul and our physical beings are weakened by this psychological
warfare.

By now, you must have read the critique of the concerts from Australia. You have seen the maliciousness spread by
Monsieur LaHaine on this site. And I am
certain that you have read many other criticisms about Trent on sites where we are no longer allowed
to tread, and various other forums. All
of this anger, hatred, jealousy, and negativity reverberates around the world
and is directed at Trent’s
spirit, and now it is catching up with his physiology. Le petit
pauvre is now becoming ill, and will need to repose in order to continue
with his fall tour in North America.

But what will happen when he returns home? For one thing, je te jure, mes amies, that all of the people who are non-Spiral
members will backlash against those of us who are, because we will get to touch
the hand that feeds, and then there will be more rioting and gnashing of teeth,
and this will further wear down the stamina of Trent.

It is time to stop the hatred against Trent. If we want him to feel better, then we must all be positive. We must band together in a solidarity of
love, and pass these vibes throughout the universe to Trent, eradicating all hatred from our
thoughts and minds (and website editors-in-chief) so that he will be able to
survive the remainder of his touring days without befalling any other ailments.

Et maintenant, my
venison is finished, and now I am moving on to a little piece of gâteau de
Chopin with a little glass of Vidal Icewine. In tribute of spreading the love and overcoming the hatred, and to
Trent’s health, I raise my glass and share with you this little poem, inspired
by the words of Trent Reznor, and dedicated to the eradication of Monsieur
LaHaine in the hopes that the pure and benevolent Gabriel Miller will emerge
from underneath yet again, full of hope and inspiration:

Burning scarlet covers your healthy skinYet the show must go on, say youShowcasing your wares to the unbelievers.How they cast your efforts into the sewers!Still, you go on playing and placating themQuel justice au monde
de la haine!

Watching the hole it
used to be mine

Just watching it burn
in my steady systematic decline

Of the trust I will
betray

Give it to me I throw
it away

After everything I’ve
done

I hate myself for what
I’ve become

You are stronger than you realize;Leave their decaying stench behind.Look to us to give you what you need now, withOur hands reaching out from what could be your heavenCome to where the clockwise swirling waters of joy comfort
youAnd you shall feel whole again.

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Comments

That just sucks. And not even in that Saturnine or Gabriel way, where it's so shitty it's entertaining.

That's just crap.

You do know that just writing crappy words around good words just makes your words look crappy? You quote like half the lyrics from "gave up" my friend. Kudos on understanding with "Cut" and "Paste" mean, but if i want to read "gave up"'s lyrics, i'll open my copy of Broken.

Gee, Gabriel, didn't know you were back from the desert so soon. Guess you've still got the hate on for my sister. Too bad you're such a chicken shit that you couldn't post the "creative" comments under your real name.

As for you, Mimi, you'd better just get your ass back home now. I hate to find myself agreeing with "Disappointed" up there, but you really shouldn't write poems when you're drunk. You're letting too much of something show that I don't think you want people to find out about. Go have a couple Ventis with Red Eyes and try not to let your emotions overwhelm you.

Oh, and Disappointed? As much as I think Trent is the biggest big fat genius ever to be ludicrously fuckable, I must tell you that the words to "Gave Up" are hardly his finest moment, literarily speaking. Without his fucking fantastic roar, and all 75 of the guitars backing his ass up on that number, those words don't really kick that much ass, really.

Now, that bit about "human junk just words and so much skin"? THAT kicks ass. That is pure genius. But, all this "I hate myself for what I've become" business? It works, in context, but standing alone? It's about on a par with Gabriel's anguished belly-aching.

Buttercup -- nice try, but I've got a tad more sense than your pal Gabriel. But don't worry, I think his stuff sucks, too. Where's the next In Dreams; at least that seemed to be funny intentionally.

Posted by: Disappointed | Aug 21, 2005 1:25:28 PM

Bonsoir, cheries! O que j'ai mal aux cheveux!

I think I may have overdone it yesterday...thank you ladies for your support!

And Disappointed, I am very sorry you do not like my poetry, but of course it was not written for you. As for my story, you will have to ask Gabriel when he will decide to post it, if he indeed does decide to post it. My sister has no idea, unless of course she has been wandering the desert with Monsieur LaHaine.

And to ma belle soeur, Buttercup, va chier, toi! If I want to tell the world of my undying love, then I will tell the world of my undying love. In fact, I might as well confess right now. But wait, what is this? A nouvelle lettre from Gabriel? Excuse me, cheries, but I must read this.

Posted by: Mimi | Aug 21, 2005 3:26:57 PM

Wonderful post Mimi!!!

BTW, those pics from Down Under..are those leathers Trents wearing?????? I couldn't tell if they were leathers or if his black jeans were so wet they were glistening!

I love a man in leathers...I need a new pair myself..mine had so many holes in them..they had to get thrown out last year.
:(

hugs, bex

Posted by: bex | Aug 21, 2005 3:59:21 PM

bex said: "I love a man in leathers...I need a new pair myself..mine had so many holes in them..they had to get thrown out last year."